Strange Bedfellows
by Nuclear Beaver
Summary: An alternative to all those slushy Niles/Daphne romances. All good things must come to an end (AU for the unlikely situation)


Title: strange bedfellows By: Nuclear Beaver Rating: PG-13? *Shrug* Genre: Angst/Romance with a touch of humour. Weird combination, I agree. Summary: an alternative to all those slushy Niles/Daphne romances. All good things must come to an end. Disclaimer: not mine. Frasier belongs to Big Poppa Paramount and Grub Street. Author's notes: please don't hurt me ^_- I'm a huge Niles/Daphne shipper but I like to explore other possibilities. I've had this idea floating around for a while.  
  
*  
  
Nervosa; His last sanctuary. The noise surrounding him seemed like the best way to forget everything.  
  
"Here's your latte, sir."  
  
The waitress gave Niles a sympathetic smile when she noted the downtrodden expression on his face. Niles tried to return the smile but for some reason his facial muscles wouldn't budge.  
  
It was over.  
  
The reality of the situation had finally hit him like a ton of bricks. It was over. They weren't compatible, they weren't a match made in heaven and the glorious 'forever' he'd imagined had lasted just over six months. He stared glumly into his latte and tried to imagine it was all a horrible dream.  
  
He wasn't sure what had upset him the most about the whole damn business. The wasted years he'd spent longing for her? The fact that they'd been SO different that he'd wondered what he'd ever seen in her? The general messiness of it all?  
  
On reflection, he couldn't decide if it was the disappointment or the fact that the whole thing was the reason for her going back to England.  
  
The new physical therapist was a burly New Yorker who was about as far removed from the word 'feminine' as a woman could be without undergoing some very drastic surgery. Frasier took an instant dislike to her and Martin (though slightly more diplomatic about it) felt pretty much the same way. Frasier and his Dad had tried to be supportive about it all, but he could tell they blamed him. Why shouldn't they? Niles had a feeling it was his fault anyway.  
  
He'd jumped into the relationship. It had made sense to assume that real life would be just like his fantasies. He had visions of perfect mornings watching the sunrise followed by perfect picnics at lunchtime. Their perfect evenings would be spent at perfect French restaurants and they would go home to bouts of perfect- well the rest seemed fairly obvious.  
  
The visions had soon melted away when he learned that Daphne liked to lie in and preferred her family recipes to the cuisine at Chez Henri. However, it hadn't seemed to matter. Their differences seemed to make things better. Well, they had up to a point but after the first heavenly week, they started to irritate each other. After three months, he'd taken to coming home late just to avoid arguments. It didn't help of course.  
  
"You don't care about me at all!"  
  
Her words rung in his ears making him wince. What hurt more, though, was what he'd said to her.  
  
"Well maybe if you gave me something to care about then I would!"  
  
God! Was that him speaking? The man who'd worshipped Daphne from afar all those years? To go off her in a few months was not only embarrassing but also grossly unfair. To be latched onto the hateful Maris for so many years and then losing the lovely Daphne after so few months was painful to comprehend.  
  
Still, he reasoned, at least I got out of it when I did. The whole thing clearly wasn't going anywhere. It was better for it to end when it did. But did it really have to end the way it did? Couldn't they have just drifted apart? Couldn't there have been a misunderstanding? Even a fight would have been better than this.  
  
He hadn't touched his latte. What he needed, he decided, was a drink. And by 'a drink' he meant 'alcohol - and lots of it'.  
  
However, he didn't trust himself to go near his collection of vintage wines in his condition. Despite his mental turmoil, Niles still knew the importance of protecting his collection. Nervosa would be closing soon and so, leaving his latte untouched, he headed for the nearest bar.  
  
*  
  
The bar was dark, crowded and smelt disturbing. He approached what was comparatively the cleanest bench and, after a few nervous coughs, finally managed to attract the bartender's attention.  
  
"Umm. erm, excuse me? Sir? I - erm"  
  
"What?" The man turned on him with the savagery of a disgruntled grizzly bear.  
  
Niles coughed politely, "could I see the beverage list please?"  
  
"We serve three kinds of beer here: 'strong', 'stronger' and 'don't even think of drinking more than one of these'."  
  
"I see" Niles tightened his lips, "then I'll have something strong, please."  
  
The bartender slammed a dirty glass under the tap and pushed the beer over to Niles. The beer was warm, foul smelling and there were small things floating in it. Niles winced, closed his eyes and took a gulp.  
  
"Oh god" he whimpered, "oh God! What the hell is that?"  
  
The barman wasn't listening. Niles took another gulp of the disgusting brew and, to his surprise, found himself ordering another one. And another. And another.  
  
*  
  
The bartender looked down at Niles, half an hour later. The psychiatrist's hair was ruffled, his shirt crumpled and his eyes baggy. He was explaining his tale of misery to a nearby hat stand. After telling the hat stand all about Daphne and Maris and England and, bizarrely, Barney the dinosaur, Niles turned back to the bar.  
  
"Anoth- -hic- another of..." he gestured at his empty glass, "p- please -hic-."  
  
"Hum. I didn't think you had it in you, mister. Are you sure you can handle another?"  
  
Niles was about to respond when a song started playing on the bar's dusty jukebox.  
  
Heart and soul, I fell in love with you Heart and soul, the way a fool would do Madly, because you held me tight And stole a kiss in the night  
  
The words, and the memories associated with them, suddenly washed over Niles' mind. For a psychiatrist, he suddenly realised, he was very unstable. He only had a moment to think about this though because a second later, he'd buried his head on the table and was sobbing into his arms.  
  
"So you won't be wanting that drink then, mister?"  
  
*  
  
It had been a hard day. Frasier was at his most annoying and, as his producer, Roz was suffering the most. She'd tried explaining that Niles would get over Daphne and everything would be fine but for some reason Frasier blamed himself. So he'd meddled a bit? So he'd gotten a bit too enthusiastic about the whole thing? God! It wasn't anyone's fault! Roz didn't have time for this. She just wanted some peace. She also wanted a drink.  
  
The dank, dark hole that she'd been frequenting since she'd moved to Seattle was as horrible as ever. An old flame had first introduced her to it and for some reason she found herself still drawn to the damn place.  
  
The smell hit her before she even got in, then there was the cheap music that the regulars always seemed to play. She only came here when she felt really pathetic.  
  
"A beer, please" she groaned, "You'd better make it a double."  
  
Sipping the stuff that she'd heard described as 'Satan's armpit sweat' she looked around and noticed a messy blonde head slumped over an expensive-looking suit.  
  
Weird, she thought the usual dress code around here's jeans - shirt optional. She smirked at what she thought was rather witty before gasping her surprise as a groggy Niles Crane raised his tear stained head.  
  
"On second thoughts" he was saying, "can I have another one?"  
  
He clearly hadn't noticed her, and her head reeled. "Niles?" she breathed, then rushed without hesitation to join him. "Niles!"  
  
He stared at her as she sat down, blinking in semi-recognition. "R- Roz?"  
  
She nodded "what the hell are you doing in a dump like this? Shouldn't you be at Nervosa?"  
  
Niles shook his head and smiled wearily, "I wasn't in the -hic- mood for Nervo- Nerva- that coffee place. And yes, I know I'm a mess. Take your best sh- shot, I can think of at least fifteen -hic- insults and you're still in a legal state of mind."  
  
Roz paused for a second; trying to understand what he was saying, "take your best-? Oh Niles! I know better than to kick a man when he's down!"  
  
Niles shrugged "I'm unlikely to come up again" he slurred, "you may as well have a go now, I won't even remember it tomorrow at the rate I'm going."  
  
Roz sighed, "This is about Daphne, isn't it?"  
  
Niles looked up, "no" he retorted as though she'd asked if he were a natural blonde, "it's about the fate of the North American Swallow. That's been really getting me down lately!" He paused, trying to rearrange his thoughts after this bout of verbal diarrhoea.  
  
"Ok, so maybe it was a stupid question."  
  
"Maybe." Niles buried his head in his arms again "if you want to talk about Daphne, you can just take yourself home."  
  
Instead, she asked him a slightly more sensible question, "how much have you had to drink?"  
  
"I don't know." He raised himself unsteadily onto one elbow. "I lost the ability to count several glasses ago. Does it matter?"  
  
She regarded him carefully, "that usually means 'too much'."  
  
"Probably" he agreed, "I hadn't realised beer was so - what's that word? You know what I mean."  
  
She didn't really but she nodded anyway. "Listen, Niles, I'm not a psychiatrist-" she paused as he stifled an explosion of giggles, "yeah, very funny. I'm not a psychiatrist but I do know that drinking too much beer probably isn't the best way to solve your problems. Especially for you! You're used to expensive wines and stuff, not this!"  
  
He looked up and grinned, "obviously you haven't tasted my 1786 Chateau d'Perrier. Too much could knock down a large dog."  
  
Wine humour? Well perhaps it meant he was feeling more like himself. The best bet would be to stop him drinking somehow.  
  
"I think we should get you home" she said decisively. "Where's your Mercedes?"  
  
Niles shrugged, he gestured in the vague direction of 'anywhere in Seattle'.  
  
"Well gee whiz, Niles, you sure are helpful when you're drunk!"  
  
He rubbed his head, "it's not my fault. That stuff's pretty strong."  
  
"Whatever. We'll take my car. You can find yours tomorrow."  
  
Niles blinked a few times, "we?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm not going to let you go home by yourself - Frasier'd kill me!"  
  
Niles nodded unsurely. "Good. Good. Yes. Yes - good." He nodded again and repeated the words over and over.  
  
*  
  
The silence of Roz's apartment was shattered as she flung the door open, "you could've told me you'd forgotten your keys!"  
  
"Well I'm sorry" Niles snapped, rubbing his head, "I was a little too busy in the pits of depression."  
  
"And you aren't now?"  
  
"I think you're making it worse!"  
  
"Quiet, you'll wake Alice."  
  
"Fine." He lowered his voice. "Got anything to drink?"  
  
She stared at him, "haven't you had enough?"  
  
"Have you just lost the one person you thought you'd never lose?" Niles retorted, "Have you just realised you've wasted half your life? Well when you tell me you have, then you can tell me to stop drinking."  
  
Roz sighed, "c'mon Niles. There's gotta be a better way to deal with this. You're a shrink - you guys are into talking, right?"  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
She plopped herself down at the table and pushed out a chair for him, "so talk."  
  
Niles stared at her for a second as though she were out of her mind. Then he shrugged, "fine. You're the only person who doesn't know so-"  
  
"Actually, Frasier told me."  
  
"Then what, exactly, is the point of all this?"  
  
"I want" she said, then tried to sound as little as possible like a cheesy talk show host, "I want to know how you feel about it."  
  
He sat down next to her. "Devastated."  
  
"Ah, perhaps you do need a drink. Keep talking, I'll be back in a second."  
  
"There's nothing to tell. It was painful and embarrassing and I wish it'd never happened - oh, thank you." He smiled weakly and tugged the ring pull on his Ballantine. The hiss of released air seemed almost relaxing. For some reason he felt the need to take small sips rather than the massive gulps he'd been taking half an hour ago.  
  
"Aaw, c'mon" she encouraged, "you can do better than that. If there's one thing I've learned from Frasier it's that you need to let stuff out."  
  
"Well thank you, Roz, I never would've guessed it being a psychiatrist and all."  
  
She swatted at his arm playfully, trying to lighten the mood, "well then why don't you go ahead and let it out?"  
  
He sighed again, "fine. It's like you have one thing. And you've wanted it all your life without realising it, and you give up everything to have it and when you've got it, you love it, but you waste it. So it's gone and you have nothing--" Niles broke off and his face crumpled. As if through instinct, he leaned into her, now sobbing softly, and she automatically wrapped her arms around him.  
  
"Hush," she whispered, the way she did when Alice was upset, "it's alright, it's alright." Roz ran a hand through his hair; to her surprise, he didn't pull away.  
  
They sat like this for a few minutes. She cradled him gently in her arms, doing her best to comfort him. A thought half-occurred to Niles.  
  
"What a surprise" he murmured, "I didn't know you had all this in you. You don't seem like the maternal type. I always thought you'd be passionate."  
  
A smirk crept onto the corner of Roz's mouth, "y'mean you've actually. thought about me like that?" She couldn't resist grinning slightly.  
  
Niles sat up abruptly, his knees instinctively flying together, "well, I umm" he flushed and looked up sheepishly, "would you like me to have?" Roz grinned wickedly, leaned forward and kissed him passionately on the lips.  
  
Niles' head spun, shock mingling with excitement. He felt Roz standing up and rose with her, the feeling that he was doing something horribly wrong only increasing his excitement. As her tongue probed his mouth, he stumbled backwards feeling her pushing him up backwards against the wall where he finally broke off, panting.  
  
"God! Roz! Where the hell did that come from?" He gasped for air; it seemed like a good idea to at least put up some resistance, no matter how half-hearted. The fact that he'd never really considered Roz as anything more than a friend had temporarily escaped his mind. This may, of course, have had something to do with the fact that she was currently undoing his tie while he fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.  
  
She looked up, "oh c'mon, Niles, you aren't stupid! It's so obvious that I want you it's not even funny!"  
  
He blinked, his thinking was fuzzy and all his blood was flowing the opposite way from his brain. "Obvious? What about all the insults? The bickering?"  
  
Her eyes shone, "you're a psychiatrist, Niles, don't tell me you don't know a defence mechanism when you see one!"  
  
He paused trying to take this in, "oh. that thing."  
  
His last thought was simply "well, why not?" It was the last bit of thinking he'd be doing for a long time.  
  
*  
  
Light poured in onto Roz's bed and her eyes flickered open. Her immediate instinct was to shut them again. Her head pounded and her body felt unusually damp. Well, not unusually, it was a sensation she was quite used to, just not in these circumstances.  
  
As her eyes adjusted, they managed to focus on the tussled blonde hair on the pillow next to her.  
  
Roz paused, trying to gather her thoughts. The fact that she was lying in bed with what was presumably Niles Crane (though she couldn't be too sure, right now her mind was spinning in a dreamy haze) seemed like a terrible and, though she wouldn't have dared to admit it, deeply exciting thing. She squinted at him blearily and eventually decided that it was definitely Niles.  
  
She rolled over quietly, hoping he wouldn't wake up, and tried to rearrange the garble of memories that flooded her mind.  
  
What she needed, she decided, was coffee. Niles, she assumed, would also want coffee when he grasped the situation. Judging by the amount he'd apparently drunk last night, she decided that he'd probably also want an aspirin. They'd have to go Mercedes-hunting, she remembered.  
  
They'd also, she realised, have to come to terms with this whole thing at some point but she quickly pushed that thought away, busying herself with slightly more practical matters. Fluff the pillows. Get an aspirin and some water for Niles. Find something slightly more appropriate to wear then her current attire (her current attire being nothing). Resist the urge to bounce around the room like a schoolgirl on her first date.  
  
And so Niles woke up to see Roz. She was modestly dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and was innocently holding a glass of water and a small tablet. But he screamed anyway.  
  
Eventually he had to stop for breath and Roz took the opportunity to try and calm him down. Remembering that he'd had quite a shock, she decided to be tactful.  
  
"Geez, Niles, think of the neighbours and shut up!"  
  
Yup, tactful. Anyway, it seemed to have worked. He was looking confused now rather than horrified. She decided that, on balance, this was a good thing.  
  
"Here, take this. It'll help your head."  
  
He did so, "Thanks. Will I regret it if I asked why I'm here?"  
  
She frowned, "don't you know?" Roz wasn't sure what she'd do if Niles were suffering from memory loss. She had a feeling it wouldn't do much for her reputation if he had - she didn't particularly want to be known as the woman who gave her partners amnesia.  
  
"I think I know" Niles spoke slowly, "but I was hoping you could tell me it was all a dream." He sighed, "Since I'm fairly sure that you're Roz not Daphne, I have a feeling it was real."  
  
"And what" she spoke carefully, "was 'it'?"  
  
Niles' lip twitched, "I think that you of all people know what 'it' is." He  
  
rubbed his head; fortunately his headache was beginning to subside.  
  
"I, uh" she thought it'd be best to get this out of the way now, "just so you know, Niles. I'd just like to say that I really enjoyed-" she was interrupted by an insistent ringing from the small bedside table.  
  
Saved by the telephone. She picked up the small handheld phone breathing a silent sigh of relief.  
  
"Roz Doyle. Oh, hi Frase... do I know where Niles is?" she glanced over at the man in the bed. Niles gestured frantically at her. She nodded her understanding. "Sorry, Frasier, I haven't seen him. Yeah? Really?" Her tone was suddenly one of concern, "y'think? No, listen, Frasier, I'm sure he wouldn't do anything like that. Ok, I'll call you if I find anything out. Ok. Bye then."  
  
She hung up the phone and looked at Niles, "You need to get home. Frasier's waiting for you at the Montana. He thinks you've done something stupid."  
  
Niles suppressed a giggle, "I have!"  
  
She almost smiled at this but stopped herself, "I'm serious, Niles! He thinks you've committed suicide or left town or something! Apparently someone's found your Mercedes and they assume you just dumped it" she paused as he failed to suppress his fit of giggles and sighed, wondering where all this was coming from. Ironically, she realised that if she were the psychiatrist, she'd probably figure it out somehow.  
  
It was probably something to do with the shock. Perhaps she should've listened to some of Frasier's lectures at some point. Probably not, there was no point dying of boredom on the off chance that one day she might sleep with a seriously depressed, drunk Niles Crane and he'd wake up in a fit of denial and hysteria. She found some clothes and pulled them on, tossing Niles' at him.  
  
"C'mon. Let's get you home."  
  
Niles sobered unexpectedly, "What? No! I can't go home. Not like this!"  
  
She looked up, "what do you mean?"  
  
"I'm a wreck" suddenly he looked the way he had the previous night. Only now, wrapped in blankets and red-faced, he looked even more pathetically adorable. Roz was unable to resist the urge to get onto the bed with him and wrap her arms around him.  
  
Though normally Niles would resist her, right now he was feeling vulnerable and leaned into Roz's embrace, sniffling slightly.  
  
"Don't worry" she said, "we don't have to go straight away. You go and have a shower and we'll have a drink and then we'll go."  
  
He nodded weakly. Then looked at her, pulling away slightly. He was awkward now, and pulled thee blanket further around himself.  
  
"Roz?" his voice was small, almost apologetic, "would you do something for me?"  
  
"Anything" her smile was suddenly warm and comforting, this seemed to have a worse effect on him and he shrank further into the covers.  
  
"Would you mind" he paused, still feeling rather ashamed. He looked up, bright blue eyes filled with shame and what might be desperation, "please don't tell anyone about last night."  
  
Roz's smile faded and she cursed herself for not seeing it coming. She nodded slowly and bit her lip. "That's ok, Niles..."  
  
"I mean, if Daphne were to find out I'd--"  
  
"I understand. It's ok."  
  
"It's just that - I mean, you were wonderful but- you know..."  
  
"I know."  
  
"It just, it wouldn't work. I hope you don't mind. I'm so sorry. You see-"  
  
"Dammit, Niles!" she snapped, "I said it was ok, didn't I? Go get your shower."  
  
He nodded and scurried off, leaving her alone in the bedroom.  
  
*  
  
Roz sat at the table, brushing aside the half empty beer cans from the previous night and nursing a mug of coffee.  
  
So, that was it. It wasn't Niles' fault. He'd never promised her anything. She sighed bitterly.  
  
If Daphne were to find out...  
  
Oh, please. He may still be hung up on Daphne but surely he'd figured out it was over between them. Stupid Daphne. It was her fault Niles had been depressed in the first place. And now it was her fault Niles was abandoning her.  
  
It was illogical, and definitely not Daphne's fault but Roz went ahead and thought it anyway. Daphne was in England. She could damn well take the blame for something.  
  
Of course, she realised, Daphne was just an excuse. For Niles as well as her. They both knew nothing would come of their little affair. It was just easier for Niles to say "I love Daphne" than "I don't love you".  
  
She took a sip of her coffee and wondered if it was right to feel used when it was her who'd seduced Niles. She decided she was probably right to feel disappointed, having waited all these years. Not exactly years of hopeless pining, admittedly, but still. It seemed a shame to have lost Niles. But then, he was never hers to lose anyway.  
  
The sound of rushing water abruptly stopped and she finished her coffee realising that in a few moments it'd be time to take Niles back the Montana and out of her life.  
  
It was over before it had even begun.  
  
And despite the yearning that stretched through the pit of her stomach - a yearning she would never have associated with Niles Crane - she forced herself to accept it. Because, after all, what else was there to do?  
  
-Finis 


End file.
